


Caught in a Storm

by spun809



Category: Supernatural, Suspiria (1977)
Genre: Angst, Blood!Kink, F/M, One Night Stand, Oral Sex, Sex with a stranger, Smut, slight dub!con, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun809/pseuds/spun809
Summary: You’re on your way to a new school and new life when a freak storm and some bad timing lead you into the arms of a dark stranger.





	Caught in a Storm

Covering your head with the back of your jacket, watching as the rain poured down around you, you rushed towards the door. It was late, and part of you doubted that anyone would be here to let you in. Still, it was going to be hard to find a hotel in a strange city in the middle of the night, while trying to navigate through the horrible weather. Knocking as loud as possible, your fist banging against the wood and pounding out a dull thud you could hear echoing inside. Closing your eyes, letting out a silent prayer that it was going to be noisy enough to rouse someone.

Pressing your face against the seam you tried to hear any signs of life coming from inside, but it was silent.

Accepting defeat you let the water splash across your face, barely trying to wipe it out of your eyes, as you made your way to the nearest street sign where a little-covered bus stop was standing. At least there you could dig out a map and try and find somewhere to bunk for the night.

“Are you lost?”

In your mission to find a warm place to stay you hadn’t noticed the man leaning up against the corner of the booth, it was like his own air of darkness made him into more of a tangible shadow then a human male. His voice however, deep and full of smoke was enough to have your attention snapping to him. It dawned on you, he might be able to help you, although he didn’t sound local what with the American accent and all, he was probably just another student like you.

You tried to plaster on a shy smile, really you were tired and wet and felt a little like crying, but that wasn’t how to get help from a stranger and you knew it.

“Not lost, just new to the city, and I need a place to stay tonight.” You weren’t sure just how much detail to give the man so you stuck to vague half-truths, “do you know of any hotels nearby?”

As he came out of the corner you noticed just how large he was, he loomed over you blocking out any remaining light from the buildings on the street. He might have been handsome in some other circumstance his features model sharp and defined but they were hidden slightly by a scruffy look of someone who has been busy drinking for days. You could even smell the whiskey as he spoke near your face.

“Sure I know a place,” he reached clumsily for your hand, “let me show you.”

You weren’t stupid, you knew better than to blindly follow some random guy in a town you had never set foot in, but you were also desperate. It was getting so late that besides sleeping in this bus stop, with its own inherent drawbacks you were running out of options.

“How about you just tell me how to get there,” pulling your fingers out of his grasp, “I don’t want to put you out.”

He just shook his head and started walking out onto the street. Your bones started to ache with the weariness of your travels and the need to get into some place warm for a moment was causing your common sense to lose out, and seeing a few groups of people and couples running to their own locations along the street gave you hope if the worst came, you could call out for help.

His strides were longer than yours, even though your limbs were perfectly suited for the jumps and leaps of ballet, it still took you basically jogging to keep him in your line of sight. The roads started to blur, you were passing them so quickly watching the green coat in front of you as it turned left and then right and then left again. Trying to keep the directions straight in case you needed to try and get back to the school.

Homes were crowding in on you, and it was strange how there was hardly a single light on in any of the windows flicking past you. Finally, he came to a stop, it was underneath a sort of awning but there wasn’t much room. Instead, you stepped sideways into the next closest doorway so you were standing in a slight alcove, able to get out of the rain, you were worried, however, it didn’t look like anyone was awake here either.

“Is this it,” you craned your neck to try to see past his bulk, “it looks empty.”

His mouth twisted into a dark smile, from which his incisors glinted like fangs, “yep this is it, Y/N.”

He began to crowd in against you, forcing your back up against the doorway. Your blood ran cold. You were certain that you had never met this man before, and you knew you hadn’t bothered to introduce yourself, how could he know you?

His arm snaked out against you, he quickly wrapped his fist against the door before grasping onto your arm. You noticed the slight squelch as his hand wrung out the moisture from your soaked through trenchcoat, you wished you had brought something heavier, this was woolen and scratched at your skin. There would be a blossom of purple marks into your skin where he continued to grip you in the morning if you ever made it that far.

The door swung open behind you and you stumbled backward into the entryway. Only his hand on you prevented you from falling completely. Your shoulder strained against the force of his hold. You looked up into the face of a new man, his brown eyes almost appearing ringed with red with the reflection of the distant streetlight, but his stare was cool and unaffected by your presence. It was all just nerves you kept telling yourself, this was probably just a local hostel and nothing to concern yourself with.

“Dean, I see you brought,” his eyes traveled along your frame, “company.”

You were glad that you could understand his British accent, you had been slightly nervous about not knowing any German. However, a school like this was bound to have plenty of English speakers, at least that is how you justified not bothering with so much as a local guidebook. The only thing you had managed to take was your map and proof that you had got into the academy and they were both mushed together in your pocket. The lack of materials to guide you was part of what forced you to follow this stranger here in the first place, at least they could understand you.

“Yep, this is Y/N.”

The other man seemed a little taken aback at the mention of your name, and if he scowled briefly you figured it must have been your imagination. At least you knew the initial stranger's name now, having something to call him made everything seem less surreal. Dean, it sounded simple and American just like you had first assumed, he wasn’t from here either.

“Do you have a room available?” You felt like you needed to steer the conversation back to the realm of sanity.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Yes, Dean here, will show you there I suppose.”

You were both pushing past him in an instant, it was almost like he had never existed in the first place because when you briefly looked behind you to gather more about his appearance it seemed like he had vanished into the shadows of the entrance. All that was left imprinted on you was the dark buttoned up look of his suit against the plaid denim casual figure that was Dean. Right now he was an insistent pressure behind you making it hard to think about another random man, you already had more than you could deal with.

The thick hand squeezed again against your arm, the pressure enough to remind you he had never let you go. Instead, he started to steer you through the too dark interior of the small apartment space. It didn’t look like a motel, it didn’t even look like a house. You did your best to try and maneuver around small furnishings and curves of hallways. Glad for the moment you had him guiding you in the strange domicile. If only because it seemed foreboding to be in on your own.

With a rough jerk on your sleeve, you stumbled to a halt in front of a slightly ajar door. It was impossible to see inside but you figured that you had arrived at your place to sleep for the night. Your suitcase had already been sent ahead to the school, so it dawned on you that you were going to be without a change of clothes, and the idea of sleeping nude here was a little terrifying. Just the thought that this guy might be sleeping a little more than a room away made you certain he could already see what was underneath your dripping clothes.

“We’re here.”

You figured he was trying to indicate that you should go into your temporary room. Although you were tired of being drenched and cold, you were also wanting to see the room before you committed to sleeping in it. Your hand searched for a light switch against the edge of the wall and eventually, your fingers brushed past it.

The bulb was red, it glowed sinisterly and reminded you of hell itself, it seemed to be coming from the walls rather than the naked flicker above your head. The room was furnished beautifully, although the color made it appear less so. There was a huge paneled divider in the center of the room carved delicately out of some exotic wood and a large wooden trunk sat at the end of an iron wrought single bed.

Dean had released you, it was so sudden you almost forgot that he had been there at all. Such was the strangeness of the evening that the room itself, even with it’s similarity to hellfire, actually didn’t seem all that frightening.

“Do you like it?” He didn’t sound like he cared much either way.

You nodded. Although you might not have been terrified of it, you were certain you didn’t like it. It felt like something evil was watching you, tracking your slight movements toward the center of the room, like the walls themselves, were a breathing entity. Heavy footfalls followed your light ones. A strange breath was close against your neck. Heating the skin behind your ear as he panted behind you. Your mind was racing, you weren’t sure why he was still here.

“How did you know my name,” you tried your best to remain calm and even in your tone not to spook him but it caused the words to come out in a whisper.

“I know everything about you,” he spun you around to face him and this time you knew his eyes were black because they reflected your own image back like a sinister mirror, “like how you were so desperate to get into a fancy dance school you decided you would sell your soul.”

“What...that wasn’t,” you cast around for an explanation.

When the man had first come to you as you sat alone at the local dive bar, they didn’t care that you weren’t 21, you had thought it was all just a joke. An old man’s way of flirting with a hot young girl who was down on her luck. Which you were. The last four dance schools had rejected you and it was your last hope to get away from the little town you grew up in to move onto something better. So, as he talked to you about deals and what was a soul really worth you didn’t even hesitate before adding, “I’d sell mine to get into Tanz Dance Academy.”

Then he had kissed you, and if you had tried to repress the memory it was only because of the way those lips had felt so cold and lifeless against your own.

You instinctively fingered the now sopping wet acceptance letter in your pocket, when you had gotten the small envelope, you had assumed it was another reject to add to the pile, but as you had scanned the page to see your start date, you realized you had done it. You were going to be a real dancer at a prestigious school. The excitement at reading the words had pushed that night back at the bar a million miles away from your thoughts. Days later you were on a plane to Germany, headed to a new city and a new life. Now, here you were alone with this sinister man, in a crumbling townhome, in a place you knew no one and somehow he knew about your secrets.

He knew about a night that you hadn’t even believed had truly happened. Souls weren’t real and they certainly weren’t a commodity.

The next thought popped out of your mouth before you could stop it, “what are you?”

His hand went for something inside of his jacket, and you were bracing yourself for something you knew was going to be terrible, you could tell from the look of glee leaking across his features. Manic and wild. Even the ominous feeling didn’t compare to the blade he brought out, it looked like it was made from bone and teeth but speckled red with what you hoped was some type of paint and not blood.

Bringing the blade up against your face his close fist guided your eyes to stare up into his now smiling face.

He crashed his lips against yours, the shock was so great you could hardly get your mind to catch up to what was happening. He still had the blade digging into the side of your face and you were too terrified to move, but there was also something about the taste of him against your mouth something dark and bitter like whiskey so strong it made you want to kiss him back.

So you did, you couldn’t match his ferocity but you tried to move your lips gently where he was busy working his mouth quick and hard. As you tried to open your mouth to catch your breath his tongue slipped in working against your own. It felt like he was going to eat your alive. When you tried to draw away slightly, he caught your bottom lip with his sharp teeth.

“Ahh,” the hard sting and taste of metal flooded your mouth.

He smiled wider, a smear of your own crimson blood against his lip.

Your mind was racing, part of you wanted this, to throw yourself in bed with a stranger and erase your humdrum middle American self. Replace it with a cultured woman who allowed herself, multiple partners. To be strong enough that you could let yourself engage in a quick fling with a dangerous man and walk out proud and self-assured in the morning. He was objectively attractive, and you thought with your own blood marking him he looked sexy in a way that you had never seen in another person.

You pulled him towards the bed, his back briefly silhouetted in the frame of the door, and when your knees bumped against the edge of the mattress you let yourself fall backward. He was immediately on top of you. His weight almost suffocating.

Focusing on the feeling of him touching you, you let the fear slip away. Knowing there was no point to worry about it now, you and he were both here bodies writhing against each other, and you allowed yourself to lose your mind to the sensations.

Hands roved over the plans of your body, but soon the action became frustrated, too damp from the rain outside, your clothes were halting the process. He set the strange implement down on the pillow beside your head, and your eyes briefly left his face to study it closer. It was jagged and now right by your pupil, you could see that it was blood that was dried into its surface. He managed in practiced action to remove your coat and then it was your jeans, by the time he reached the thin material of your tank top he was tearing more of the fabric than he was pulling it off you.

Almost naked, you felt much more vulnerable and slightly scared again, but beyond the shaking terror, there was a growing arousal. This was so unlike you, but you wanted to see just how far you could push yourself even if it was only for one night.

“Look at you,” he rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, “so delicate.” His fingers squeezed harder into your flesh.

You reached your head up to meet him, trying to stop any more words from pouring out by kissing him fiercely. It worked for the most part, except for the dark chuckle that escaped between you pulsing your tongue against his.

His fingers were moving again, crawling up to your now soaked pussy, you knew that when he peeled back the thin lace panties you were he would feel your slickness. It was the last thing that should have mattered at this point but you could feel the flush creeping into your face.

A hum was elicited from above you as he found his mark, the sensitive bundle of nerves that made a fire spark in your core. He was a man who clearly knew how to bring the pleasure, but as he tweaked and rubbed your clit the sensation almost started to border on pain.

“Hurts,” you choked out quietly.

“It’s ok baby,” he stopped to push a thick digit inside you, “it looks like you like it.”

He started to add another finger and you moaned into the slight burn you felt at the fullness, his huge digits filling you easily, then he was rubbing at that inner spot that had you fisting your hands into the bedding and arching your back. You were so close that you could barely see him in front of you.

Lips bumped against yours lightly as your own motion became slightly off with the closeness of your approaching orgasm. The tingling in your crotch spread like lightning sparking in all directions of your limbs, and he worked you through the final shockwaves softer and softer letting you fall off into the edge of darkness.

His lips were pressing softly along your neck at your pulse point. You could feel your own heart beating faster as you began to come back to the room around you. You were sated but the feeling of his plush mouth on your skin started to rebuild the thrum of pleasure through your body, by the time his fingers tugged on your nipple you were starting to get wet again.

“I’m so tired,” you whined wanting to please him in return but feeling wrung out from your earlier peak.

“Sweetheart, we’re just getting started.”

He gripped the blade, his quick grab for it putting his fist right next to your face before holding the pointed tip against the hollow of your neck.

You laughed nervously, “Was that supposed to scare me?” You felt suddenly unsure where this all was going.

This was supposed to be an adventurous one night stand not a homicide.

The knife moved along your collarbone and then slowly traced along your upper body. You could feel the strange scrape and bump of it against your breast until the curved tip was pressed against the delicate peak of your left nipple but it was quickly followed by the soft trail of kisses Dean was leaving in the wake of its jagged teeth. The striking contrast between the softness and harsh edge was keeping your body interested. 

It was the hand of someone practiced, the blade was pressing but not cutting, he clearly knew exactly how much pressure he was able to apply. Once he reached the flat expanse of your stomach you sucked in a breath causing the blade to skip and knick you. The sharp sting was followed by a slight ooze. It wasn’t the tacky welt that had a newer heat building between your legs, rather it was the light in his onyx eyes as he watched the blood run out of you, it was irreverent.

He ran his finger through the sticky trail massaging it into the skin of your stomach, you saw the way the deep burgundy of the blood intermixed with the artificial red light of the room into an ichor like substance against his fingers, he pushed the copper dipped digits past your lips and you felt the heavy weight of your blood in your mouth.

“Does that taste good, baby?” He was nodding himself like he could already see the answer in your half-lidded eyes.

Your only response was to suck at his fingers harder, nipping at his knuckle buried between your lips. Swirling your tongue around the base of them, and slightly bobbing your head. You needed more of him, craved to feel him buried inside you. This was your way of teasing him of a preview of things you could be doing that would be more fun.

He seemed to get the picture because he removed his hand so he could stand at the edge of the bed and undress, you watched as his clothes were thrown roughly to the floor, no care for where they were failing. His eyes stayed on you. It looked like they were planning all the future moves he wanted to make on your body.

“Spread your legs,” it was a command you immediately followed.

His head was buried in the v between your thighs quicker than you could have expected. His teeth bit softly at your inner leg moving up to your soaking lips, he spread them gently to finger you while he mouthed against your clit. This was only a precursor, when he decided you were wet enough he took his own length in his palm. Raising himself on his knees above you.

You watched the flex of the muscles in his arm and chest, the way the cords in his neck were strained with his obvious excitement. He would have looked like a museum statue with his perfect shape if not for the movement of his fist against his cock, but even his bulging erection had him looking more handsome to you, almost human again.

He was large and you knew there would be the slight burn when that full length penetrated you, and you needed it, your hands went to your tits massaging your nipples to hard peaks. Trying to put on somewhat of a show to keep his interest and when he let go his erection sprang up towards his stomach so you knew it was working. He was ready.

Burying himself into you, his head and shaft so deep you could feel the harsh bump against your cervix at the depth and speed of his thrust. He didn’t slow, he snapped his hips to meet yours and you did your best to match his brutal pace. You couldn’t help the garbled pleas and cries that fell from your lips, it hurt but you wanted more. As his fingers found your hip you felt the way his fingertips stuck against the tacky trail of blood from earlier.

Flipping you easily, briefly removing himself from inside you, he organized your hands and knees so you were on all fours. Not fast enough for your liking, he nudged up against you from behind, you were ready to come and all this movement was breaking the pace you needed. At least now it was a better angle so he was able to hold against your hips as he pounded you relentlessly. In and out until your legs were buckling and you could feel his own hold was slipping.

His thrust became erratic and he was pumping his warm seed deep inside you before you even thought about protection. Although he was finished he made sure you reached your own peak. He moved his hand to your clit pushing past your wet folds to twirl his fingers against you until you felt yourself cresting. Once again you were left a panting mess heaped over on the bed.

Somewhere above you, you felt him shifting around, you assumed he was gathering his clothes and your heart fell a little at the thought that suddenly you didn’t want him to leave you here on your own. Even though his presence wasn’t comforting it was something to just not be alone.

“You could stay,” you tried to make it sound like an offer and not a plea.

“Can’t tonight, but don’t worry I will be seeing you again real soon.” With that, you heard the snick of the door behind him.

Shivering you laid alone on the bed, your thighs tacky with the remnants of your recently spent passions and you were left to ponder exactly what was going to happen the next time you saw Dean. You didn’t think it could be anything good, but a part of you was still excited.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @roxy-davenports challenge over on tumblr with four prompts. The movie Suspiria (1977), Demon!Dean, Blood!kink, and the quote, "What was that supposed to scare me?"


End file.
